The March of My Discontent


 

Winter really never came, but also seems to not want to go away. We got all the ugly parts of winter: high winds, snow squalls, subzero nights. And very little or none of the pretty parts: the angel soft snows, the fairy frost on the trees, the silence of a gentle blanket of powder.

We got the spring breakers who would rather be at the beach, and the families who found the snow not nice enough, and the prices too high. My vacation rental, on its first winter, had good attendance but most seemed happy to not ski, but thrilled with the hawks soaring over the fields and hills, and the birth of two new calves behind my property.

But not a good March for me. I developed a horrible case of inn keeper's thumb (skiers' thumb with a vengeance) which had my left hand and wrist not merely totally useless but terribly painful. Not only could I not use that hand but could not sleep and barely dress myself. As if sensing my disconnect my Microsoft Windows 10 computer failed. That was fine by me because I could not type, hold either camera to take photos, or make anyone understand what I could not do without screaming.  And it is to be noted I have a very high pain threshold. But there was nobody to call to take over my obligations. They were all too busy.

The hand is better after three weeks but not back to normal. I am, however, typing this, can text with both thumbs and yesterday wore jeans for the first time in three weeks. I dared to order material and plot (in moderation) a couple sewing projects. I am ignoring all the things on my todo list for the month of March. If I go there I will just cry. I have done enough of that for the year. In pain, contemplating surgery if this does not get better, grief caught up with me.

My sister was my triage consultant who answered all my questions about injuries. MedLine is just not the same. My sister always made me laugh in the face of despair. March was full of despair. And very little laughs. And so many people angry with me because I mentioned my limitations. Daily I had to drive through the tourists who could not drive in snow (yes it snowed), and do it without a seat belt because you cannot fasten it without a left hand. My macabre mind placated myself with lists of who had it worse, and how it could get worse.  Fortunately there were some bright lights in the darkness. People who understood and helped out with little things which became huge like stacking wood on my front porch, showing up to make beds, sharing stories of their thumb from hell. Coming to the studio and buying paintings. Wanting photographs of Angel Fire which were all hidden on the dead computer but forced me to ask the computer guy if he could get them off there and on to an external hard drive.

I know this is too long but it is way shorter than a list of the trials and tribulations of March. Next year I am just going to close up for this month. Oh, happy heavenly birthday Mom.

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